My Name is Maria
by ClayPidgeon162
Summary: Post "Maria ending" for SH2. Maria has left Silent Hill with James, but she begins to question her relationship with James and if she truly has an identity of her own.
1. Born From a Wish

**S**I**L**E**N**T HI**L**L

**My Name is Maria**

* * *

"_Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned." _- William Congreve

* * *

"James." The name tumbled from her lips so unexpectedly, she almost thought it had been spoken by someone else. It stirred an unfamiliar passion within her, burning through her stomach. Her delicate fingers ran across the butterfly tattoo just above her waist, trying to understand this feeling simmering beneath it and why it was incited by a name she'd never spoken before. But deep in those fires burning within her, she felt as though she knew that name.

She'd woken up that day to find everyone gone. She was all alone. She had no memories of herself outside of some vague familiarities, and the only other human face she found was a reflection she didn't recognize. But she knew that image in the mirror belonged to her as they both sat in a chair with a vivid shade of scarlet hidden beneath layers of grime and filth. And she recognized the revolver cradled in that reflection's hands.

The gun soon grew warm in her palm as she looked over it, contemplating that lonely bullet loaded into the chamber. Her mind struggled to find a reason for her to be in that empty town, a purpose for her to fight for. But all she could find was a dread that burrowed deep within her and doused that passion that once burned beneath her skin. The thought of death and suffering chilled across her flesh, but it couldn't rival the ache of loneliness cramping through her body.

Her eyes looked around, discovering that she was in a tiny dressing room. She almost felt as though she was trapped within a womb or a decaying cocoon. The floor was soiled with brown filth and water stains oozed down the walls. A thick gray mist was pressed up against the window from outside. Around that window, she found several dry and cracked posters taped to the peeling wallpaper. And as she looked at those posters, she suddenly knew her name as though it had never left her.

Her name was Maria.

Maria stared at herself in the mirror above the dresser, that face burning into her eyes and deep into her memories until it no longer seemed strange.

"What do I do now?" she asked her reflection. Her hand brought the revolver between them and she rotated it before her eyes, admiring the faint gleam across the metal surface and thinking of that single bullet waiting in the barrel. She aimed in on her reflection, but then the image of her lying dead in that chair consumed her thoughts.

Maria quickly lowered the gun as the thought of being alone in that town forever was overwhelming. She stood up from the stained chair and walked to the window. Her eyes peeked between the bent metal blinds dangling before the glass, but there was nothing to see beyond that dull gray fog.

She knew they were out there. She could feel their pain, their fear, their death, and their loneliness. They wanted to share it with her, but she couldn't accept that. Her face winced and her body cringed in anticipation of that imagined pain. She couldn't stand the thought of it. Maria couldn't die in that town alone. She had to find someone. She wasn't sure who, but she knew someone was out there.

* * *

The click of her heels echoed through the alley as that man's voice echoed through her mind. That man who introduced himself as Ernest. That man who wasn't really there.

"_You were born in this town."_

The fog was thick around her, barely letting Maria's eyes see the ground she was stepping on. That hollow alley seemed to stretch forever and she knew there was no one waiting at the end of it. She was alone.

"_Do you believe in fate?"_

Her eyes looked down to the pavement, giving up all hope of finding another human in that fog. Her legs grew heavy in her desolation until she could walk no further and stopped in that empty alley.

"_He's a bad man."_

Maria looked at the revolver in her hand. The grip had grown cold from her sweaty palms. She remembered there was one round still left in the chamber.

"_He's looking for the you that isn't you."_

The skin across her temple cowered beneath the frigid touch of the barrel. She imagined that lonely bullet burrowing through her brain, joining her flesh. But then she thought about the pain of that unnatural union. She thought of death. She imagined her corpse laying in the midst of that fog, never to be found. Forever alone. Just like Ernest.

The chalk drawings across the wall to her left burrowed into the corner of her eye until she gave them the attention they craved. They were obviously done by a child, and then a name suddenly rose in her thoughts: "Laura".

Maria knew that it wasn't her memory. It didn't belong to her, but there was nothing in her head to call her own. There was nothing of hers to hold on to, so she embraced that false memory of Laura, and then his face started to form in her mind.

The clarity of that man who appeared in her thoughts and the lifetime of emotions he brought took the breath right out of her lungs. She was barely able to keep her knees from buckling and her hand dropped to her side, dragging the revolver away from her head.

Maria took one last look at the gun, then tossed it over the wall with the chalk sketches. She knew she wouldn't need it. She was safe with him here. He would protect her.

His face was so vivid in her mind that she could almost see him across that blank canvas of fog. The sullen loneliness suddenly faded from her body and the warmth returned to her flesh.

The passion ignited within her stomach and spread to her mind. A single thought consumed her and she couldn't concentrate on anything else. She didn't want to. That thought slipped from her lips in a heavy sigh and echoed across the alley walls, "James."

Her legs came to life and followed that longing echo down the alley and deeper into the fog. Maria was in a trance, possessed with thoughts of James, but her body knew where to go. Her legs knew where to find him.

Their special place.


	2. Doll Parts

— **Doll Parts**** —**

_Author's Note__: I'm gonna see if I can go ahead and finish this one. It's been lingering on here for way too long._

* * *

_You were born in this town._

The rhythm of her heels striking the steel plates of the floor sounded natural to her ears. She wasn't sure how long she'd been walking, but it felt as though it could've been forever, as if she were born straight into that moment.

Maria looked around as her legs kept the steady beat of her heels, finding herself walking through the center of a large abandoned warehouse. The ceiling was perspiring with filthy water that seeped down the walls, making the layers of rust look fluid. It flowed down the suspending wires of the overhead lights, collecting in small pools within the lamps and casting dismal shades of brown across the building.

When her eyes adjusted to the dank light, she found rows of machinery flanking her on both sides. She saw an assembly line of small, pale, glistening body parts. She looked at a small head, its hair tangled and matted, weaving into a blond tumbleweed. Its eyes were hollow, just empty sockets forming wells brimming with darkness. Its face was varnished with moisture from the ceiling, drops sliding down its smooth plastic surface, almost looking as though those empty eyes were still able to cry.

Maria realized she was in a factory. A doll factory.

The machinery was so corroded, she couldn't tell the moving parts from the static ones. It seemed like it belonged to a civilization that was long dead.

But as she moved down the frozen assembly line, the doll parts grew larger, life sized. She stopped at a pair of mannequin legs. They looked more like glazed flesh than plastic.

Her eyes then wandered towards a point of bright, untainted light that easily tunneled through the darkness before her. She stepped away from the assembly line, continuing down her original path and towards that white beacon.

Maria squinted as she submerged into the white light. Everything before her became a blind haze, but her eyes were convinced there was a shape within that blur. It gradually took the form of a human silhouette, walking towards her.

"James?" she called out, but she already knew it wasn't him. That shadow in the tunnel of light was familiar, but it wasn't James. Maria started to run towards the unknown person, eager to leave her loneliness in the darkness. The figure before her seemed just as desperate, picking up Maria's pace and rushing to meet her.

They stopped with only a few feet between them and Maria's heart sank as the silhouette was given features by the light. All she saw was herself.

_This is a dead end. There's nothing beyond here._

It was a reflection. She was staring into a mirror. Every move Maria made, her twin followed like a bright shadow. She reached her hand out and their palms joined together, only separated by a thin sheet of glass. But the surface of the mirror seemed unusually warm. That's when Maria realized it wasn't reflecting the world she was in.

The world opposite Maria was bright and animate, clean and modern. It was more like a look into what Maria's world could've been, or maybe once was. Even her reflection was false. Her twin was a strawberry blond, where as Maria's hair was distinctly separated into bleached strands with red tips. Her reflection wore white conservative clothing, while Maria's outfit was scarlet and followed the curves of her flesh closely.

"He'll never love you."

Maria pulled her hand away from the mirror and stepped back, looking at her polar twin, Mary. The her that wasn't her.

"You're not the one he wants," Mary continued as she broke the invisible strings that bound her to Maria's movements. She stood with a stiff posture and her hands locked politely in front of her. Prim and proper.

"You're not even a real person. You're just – _flesh, _nothing more. You're doll parts."

"He chose me over you," spoke Maria with less composure than her counterpart.

"No," Mary replied as a smile grew, mock pity brimming in her eyes. "He chose you over death and loneliness. He'll realize the mistake."

Mary leaned in close until it seemed she'd break through the barrier separating their two worlds.

"James will choose to die alone over a life with you," she spit at Maria.

"He left with me because I'm the woman he wished he had."

"You're a wet dream. Just a flash of heat."

"I'm what you could never be."

"You're nothing. Just a thief. Do you even know _why_ you love him?"

Maria looked away, searching her thoughts, but could only find silence.

"You stole my life," Mary smiled, "and you don't even know what to do with it." Her eyes ran over Maria before she continued, "Look at you. There's nothing about you that reflects _any_ of those memories in that head of yours. What's your name again? _Maria?"_

Maria didn't respond, but quietly clenched her fist and bit down into her tongue, hoping that Mary would taste the blood.

"_Maria,"_ Mary continued, "Sounds like _Mary_ – but it isn't. Where did you even get that name? I had a mother and a father. Who named you?"

Maria's white-knuckles smashed into the mirror, planting a seed that sprouted cracks through the surface. She tried to hide her pain beneath an angry scowl, pulling her limp hand back to her side.

Mary laughed, "Did you really think you could take my life without bringing me with it?"

"It's not your life anymore," Maria grumbled from the shadows of her brow.

"It's not yours either." Mary looked down to Maria's waist, spotting her tattoo. "A butterfly – I guess that fits. You're nothing more than something pretty to look at. And most butterflies only live for a week, maybe two."

"He's happy now. Just let him have that."

"A butterfly's just as pretty dead, pinned to a wall, as it is alive and fluttering its wings," Mary spoke, not even acknowledging Maria's words.

Maria's glare drifted from Mary to the blood trickling down the mirror from the indentation she created with her fist. As the blood flowed down, the cracks moved up. But Mary's words lured her attention back.

"He's going to kill you, but you don't even have a life to give him."

Maria just gazed in silence as she thought of whom Mary was referring to.

"_The butterfly collector,"_ Mary whispered in a voice that wasn't her own.

"Mary?" His voice grabbed Maria's eyes and she spotted him just over Mary's shoulder within the fractured mirror.

"_James!"_ Maria gasped from a desperate smile that pleaded for him to save her from this dark reflection. But her smile left when she turned around and her eyes met with whom was standing behind her.

The moisture drizzled down the grooves and bumps of the rusted surface of his pointed helmet, gathering in beads that hung on desperately to the lip of that metal triangle swallowing his head. The shadow of his jutting helmet stained the front of his tainted white robes and his fingers were wrapped around an erect spear, its tip as sharp as the point of his moist and rigid metallic head.

Maria heard a heavy grunt echoing from within that helmet as she felt the pain penetrating her abdomen. He thrust the stiff spear into her soft flesh, forcing her butterfly tattoo to blossom into a gush of crimson red. She moaned as the sensation rippled beneath her skin. As he lifted her body off the ground, she could feel the blood trickling down her legs.

Maria woke up, her head nearly hitting the dashboard as her stomach contracted from a fit of coughs.

"_You carry on cause it's all you know,_

_You can't light a fire, you can't cook or sew,"_

She coughed until her throat was stripped raw, violently forcing the breath from her lungs until they felt as though they'd turned inside-out. A whimper wedged between her tightly sealed lips as she cradled herself in her arms and rocked back and forth in the passenger's seat, trying to focus on the music coming from the speakers as she waited for the pain in her torso to pass.

"_You get from day to day by filling your head,_

_But you surely must know the thrill between your legs has worn off."_

She breathed carefully, slowly exhaling with the pace of a deflating tire, each breath she expelled carrying a piece of her pain with it.

"_And I don't care about morals._

_Because the world's insane and we're all to blame anyway."_

Even as the pain faded, Maria kept herself cradled in her arms, her skin trembling to shake off the damp cold.

"_And I don't feel any sorrow,_

_Towards the kings and queens of the butterfly collectors."_

She looked at her reflection in the vanity mirror, fixing her hair and gazing deep into her own eyes, searching for what was lurking within them.

"_There's tarts and whores but you're much more,_

_You're a different kind 'cause you want their minds,_

_And you just don't care 'cause you've got no brains,_

_It's just a face on your pillowcase that thrills you."_

She found herself in the passenger's seat of James' car. A thick gray mist had latched upon the windshield, salivating moisture across the glass as it leeched the heat from within the car.

But as Maria looked around, she realized she wasn't shaking from the cold. Her flesh was quivering at the realization that James was gone. She was alone.

"_And I don't feel any sorrow towards the kings and queens of the butterfly collectors."_

* * *

_*__Song__: "The Butterfly Collector" by The Jam_


	3. In Dreams

— **In Dreams **—

* * *

Maria called for James with the tone of a distressed child, expecting that merely speaking his name would magically bring him back to her. But her cries were blocked by the wall of fog outside the car.

She examined the driver's seat, noticing the keys still dangling in the ignition, slowly swaying as they settled to a stop. She reached over and frantically pressed down on the horn. It echoed through the world outside, sounding distant and lost like a fog horn lurking in the mists of a harbor.

Maria gasped when the radio suddenly squealed, the music quickly devoured by a roar of static and then slipping into pure white noise. She turned her head to the rear of the car when she caught movement in the corner of her eye, watching the hood of the trunk slowing rise open.

She moved her head about the interior of the car, hoping to see James rummaging through luggage, but her eyes couldn't reach beyond that open decklid. Maria could barely hear the white noise as her heart drummed within her ears, its frantic energy tensing her muscles and flushing her skin until she no longer felt cold. Her eyes tried to pierce the gray haze painted across the window of the passenger's side door, contemplating that world waiting outside the car, and then she opened the door.

The soles of her dark brown boots crunched a thin layer of ice sprayed across the parking lot. The sudden submersion into that cold fog roused a gasp from her lungs, the heat of her body escaping her lips in a spectral cloud that wove through the mist seamlessly before joining it. She pulled her scarlet sleeves down over her hands and smothered them in her arm pits, then stepped cautiously towards the rear of the car.

"James?" she spoke, arching her head to see around the open trunk, only to find no one standing before it. From the side of the car, her eyes glimpsed into the crack between the trunk and the raised decklid, catching a small glimpse of its contents. She saw the tip of a woman's shoe, a shoe she recognized. She remembered wearing that shoe even though she knew she hadn't.

Maria started to walk to the rear of the car to peek within that trunk, to discover what was hidden inside, but her arm suddenly shot out and slammed the trunk shut. She quickly looked away, cutting short the current path of her thoughts and screamed out James' name to steer them in a different direction.

The outline of a building gradually took shape within the mist. Maria found James' car was parked before a small motel, only two stories high. Her eyes searched further in the fog, squinting to focus on a sign in the distance. They discovered the saturated glow of neon letters, reading, "WAKE FOREST INN".

Those letters disappeared as snow tumbled towards the ground, the flakes clinging to the fabric of Maria's clothes and melting on top of her head, their cold residue seeping between her strands of hair. She started to walk towards the direction of the sign, seeking shelter and the reassurance of another human being, but suddenly stopped.

Maria looked back towards James' car, feeling that it would cease to exist if she let it sink into that fog. It was her anchor, a promise of James' return. If she lost sight of it, she could be lost within that cloud of nothingness forever.

Her head turned towards the direction of the lost sign and she called out James' name, then wandered back to his car as the snow poured down across the backdrop of fog, looking like static on a television screen.

The car was parked before room number 9 and Maria took shelter beneath the second story walkway. She looked at a trash can planted outside the window of room 9 with an ash tray on the top filled with sand, sprouting yellow and brown stained cigarette filters. She grimaced a little as she disturbed the planted cigarette butts with her fingers, seeing if any still had tobacco in them.

She knew Mary didn't smoke, so she plucked the longest spent cigarette she could find and took it back to the car. Maria started the engine and turned on the heater, then pressed the cigarette lighter in and turned the knobs on the radio as she waited for it to heat up.

The lighter popped its head out of its hole with a _click_ and Maria pulled it out, her eyes watching it pass its orange glow to the tip of the cigarette perched between her lips. She felt the cloud of smoke travel down her throat as she inhaled, then watched it gush from her lips, propelled before her eyes by an eruption of coughs.

When her lungs settled and the tightness in her stomach subsided, she looked down at a spray of red sinking in the snow and smothered it with her boot until it was merely a dark blemish. Maria then gazed at the cherry of the cigarette, considering another drag, when she heard his voice.

"What're you doing?"

Her eyes followed her ears and she found James standing between the front of the car and the door to room 9. He'd zipped up that ugly green jacket she was starting to hate with his hands in its pockets.

"You don't smoke," he continued.

Maria's expression twitched, her lips pulled between a smile and a scowl. She wanted to embrace James, but an equal force of anger opposed that impulse and she simply stood there, staring into his eyes.

She inhaled another breath from the cigarette, her spite giving her the strength to let the smoke linger in her lungs.

"How would you know anything about me, James?"

He didn't answer, his expression confused as the answer seemed obvious to him.

"Where were you?" she asked, her voice subdued but simmering.

"I was getting a room – why are you smoking? You know you shouldn't be doing that."

She took one last drag off the cigarette and flicked it into the snow.

"I'm not a dog," she spoke, her words trailed by ribbons of smoke. "You don't leave me in the car with the radio on to keep me company."

"I didn't wanna wake you."

"I don't want to wake up alone. _Ever."_

"Sorry," he spoke meekly, his eyes slumping to the ground.

"You think you know me, but that's the one thing you should definitely know by now."

"I'm sorry," he repeated.

"Yeah, _'sorry' _is a real easy word to say."

He didn't speak, keeping his eyes cast downwards like a scolded puppy.

"Well where the hell are we?" Maria spoke through chattering teeth.

"Wake Forest."

"Okay, and where the hell is Wake Forest?"

"I don't know. It's some small town."

"What's with the fog and the snow? It was clear when we left."

"I don't know," James shrugged, not caring. His eyes were glazed with a willful naivety, his senses conditioned to accept any world that appeared around him.

"We're still near Toluca Lake," he added.

"_What? _The fuck James? Did you drive for five minutes?"

"I'm tired Maria. It's been a long – I'm just tired."

James' chastised composure weakened her anger and she walked up to him, caressing his cheek with her fingers. His neck tensed and pulled his head back slightly, somewhat overwhelmed by her warmth.

She ran her hand across his scalp, the sensation of his hair between her fingers arousing a past life in Maria's mind. That love awoke within her stomach and burned through her limbs until the cold could no longer touch her. It didn't belong to her, but she wanted to believe.

"I'll never yell at you," she spoke, "or make you feel bad. I'll be here for you. Forever."

Maria hooked her arms around his neck and leaned in close, the condensation of her breath clinging to his skin.

"Isn't that what you want?"

James didn't answer, his thoughts devoured by her unfamiliar touch.

Her hand crawled down his chest, taking in the feel of his body beneath his clothes, and she started to pull down the zipper of his jacket.

"What're you doing?" he asked with naive words.

Maria's eyes teased him, a smile growing across her face as she pulled the zipper down to the end of its tracks.

"Don't play so innocent," she said.

She slid her arms beneath the jacket and around his chest, pulling herself closely against him until their bodies shared their warmth.

"I'm cold," she spoke as she laid her head against his chest, listening to the quickening pace of James' heart.

His shoulders were drawn back and his hands hovered around her, his body stiff and rigid as it was unprepared to cross that threshold. He gently stepped away from Maria's embrace and pulled off his jacket, then draped it over her shoulders.

Maria just stared at him, dumbstruck by his clumsy chivalry.

"Wow – what a gentleman," she spoke sarcastically.

James ignored her comment and pulled a motel key from his pocket as he walked towards room 9. Maria stood in the snow, watching him walk away with bewilderment and sighed loudly, trying to bait his attention. But she finally relented and followed him into the room.

It was a small and simple room, looking as though it hadn't been changed since the 1950's. James and Maria saw themselves in a mirror resting at the opposite side of the room, just outside the entrance to the bathroom. An old television with knobs and a rabbit-ear antennae stood on top of the dresser.

Across from the television where two beds, separated by a night stand.

"Are you kidding me?" Maria spoke. "Is this supposed to be our _special place?"_

"Stop," James spoke mildly.

"Do you push the beds together on special occasions?"

"Maria – I'm not in the mood."

Maria rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Jesus James. You have no sense-of-humor."

James sat down on one of the beds and switched on the lamp on top of the night stand. Maria shed his jacket from her shoulders and dropped it on the empty bed, then crawled next to James, taking her boots off as James emptied his pockets onto the night stand.

Maria dropped one of her boots in the space between the bed and the wall, then looked over James' shoulder, watching him place his handgun in the drawer next to the Bible.

She started to sing softly as she took off her other boot, watching James' back as she did so.

"_Rocky Raccoon, checked into his room, only to find Gideon's bible."_

James didn't notice her, his shoulders slumped down and his eyes looking upon something in his hands.

Maria crawled up to him, wrapping her arms around him and resting her chin on his shoulder, peeking down at Mary's letter in his hands.

She reached down and plucked the letter from his hands, his fingers willingly giving into her, and she tossed the letter aside.

Maria leaned over until to was to his side, then placed her palms upon his cheeks and guided his eyes to her.

"Hey," she spoke, "Look at me."

James' eyes were pointed towards her, but he seemed to be gazing within himself.

"I'm with you now," Maria continued. "I'm yours."

She looked over at the night stand and spotted his handheld radio. She grabbed it and turned it on, tuning through the static and white noise until she picked up a signal.

She set the radio back on the night stand with music popping and cracking from the speaker.

"_Go to sleep, _

_everything is all right." _

Maria grabbed his legs and laid them across the bed, then hiked the fabric of her skirt up her thighs before straddling him.

"_I close my eyes, _

_then I drift away,"_

Her fingers extended up his cheeks like a frame as she leaned in, her lips kissing his cheek and slowly crawling towards his mouth.

"_Into the magic night, _

_I softly say,"_

When she met his limp lips, she looked up to his eyes, finding James still lost within himself. She whispered into his ear, "This is the only moment that exists. Nothing else matters."

"_A silent prayer,_

_like dreamers do."_

His weary eyes awoke and looked at Maria, who smiled at them.

"_Then I fall asleep to dream,_

_my dreams of you."_

James timidly reached his hands towards her. Before they could reach her under their own force, Maria grabbed them and guided them up her back, wedging his fingers beneath her clothes.

"_In dreams,_

_I walk,_

_with you._"

He pulled her closer towards him, to which she responded with giddy laughter, speaking breathlessly, "Good boy."

"_In dreams,_

_I talk,_

_to you."_

Her lips hovered less than an inch from his, her eyes gazing into his, waiting for him to make the final step. Then James leaned forward and sealed his lips with hers.

"_In dreams,_

_you're mine,_

_all of the time."_

She wrapped her legs around his waist, crossing her ankles behind his back, and her hips started rubbing across his lap. Her fingers sifted through his hair and she pulled his head closer to hers, pressing his lips deeper into hers, encouraging his efforts.

"_We're together,_

_in dreams, _

_in dreams."_

Maria suddenly pulled away from James, turning her head and bringing her hand to her mouth as her lungs started to bark with a cough. She unlocked her ankles and crawled away from him to the other side of the bed, barely able to inhale another breath between coughs.

"Sorry," she struggled to speak.

"It's okay."

Maria crawled to the edge of the bed and stepped onto the floor, walking towards the sink beneath the mirror and filled up a cup of water. She poured the water down her throat, trying to drown the coughs, but suddenly spewed water across her reflection.

She grabbed a wash rag and smothered her mouth with it, the yellowing white fabric absorbing her coughs.

She finally pulled the rag away, taking a deep breath and waiting for another round of coughs, but they didn't come. She looked down at the rag, noticing small specks of blood, then looked in the mirror to see if James was watching her, subtly tossing the rag into the trash-can when she was assured he wasn't.

She swallowed another cup of water, able to keep this one down, and walked back to the bed and James.

But she found James in the same position she had left him, his eyes closed and his mouth open. Everything had finally caught up to him and he had fallen into sleep.

Maria crawled next to him and nudged him, speaking, "James."

She shook him, trying to stir him from his sleep. His eyes opened weakly and looked at her, but quickly shut again.

"Ah-uh, you're not falling asleep on me."

She kissed him, but he didn't wake up. Maria sighed and gave up.

"Damn it James."

She curled up next to him, her body curving to fit the shape of his as though they were two pieces of a whole. The beating of his heart was a lullaby to her ears and she smiled as her eyes closed, gently moaning as she fought the urge to drift into a dream, wanting to stretch that moment across eternity.

"Mary", James muttered in a half-woken daze, wrapping his arms around Maria and pulling her closer to him. Maria opened her eyes and sighed, staring up at a brown water stain in the ceiling as she tried to convince her ears to pretend that he had said "Maria".

* * *

*_Song__- "In Dreams" by Roy Orbison_


End file.
